


Dragon's Breath

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Bottom Sam, But it gets consensual fast, Corruption, Dean as Khragnar, Dragon Dean, Evil Dean, Fingering, Good versus Evil, Human Sam, M/M, Magic and dragons and stuff, Rough Sex, Roughness, Slightly rapey vibes at first, Thrill of the Chase, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9312266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: After their sanctum has come under attack, newbie magus Sam Winchester finds himself with the heavy responsibility of hiding the ancient weapon the enemy has come to steal; but it doesn't take long for the leader to catch up with him, and when he does, instead of killing Sam, he changes the boy's life forever.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Aren't dragons just majestic? Well, after watching Doctor Strange, all the magic and awesomeness inspired me to write this, and let me tell you, I enjoyed every second of it; so I sincerely hope that you guys will like it as well :)
> 
> PS: This is also an early birthday present for my darling, Scarlet_Ribbons, because she loves dragons just as much as I do~

                                                                                   

 

 

_"What are you doing? Run!"_

Sam took a few hesitant steps back, clutching the cursed blade between his hands, his eyes wide as he watched the building get engulfed by orange, hungry flames. He has heard the tales from the others, but seeing the dragon was so much more different than hearing about it. The red and deep purple, black scales, the glowing yellow eyes, the claws that easily ripped through the other guardians. Their spells and wands, their weapons, nothing could stop it and its minions. Dark creatures of rotting flesh and incredible speed, they poured through the portal that opened less than ten minutes ago in the hall. No one expected it to happen, at least not yet, and not here. They knew Khragnar was coming for the blade—it belonged to him, after all, just as ancient as the dragon itself, and even more powerful. They knew there was a fight coming, could feel the tension in the air as the days passed. They watched over the blade, locked in its glass cage, someone always standing guard near it. They waited, they prepared… But none of them could anticipate an attack of this magnitude taking place right in the middle of their previously thought of as safe and unbreachable sanctuary.

Almost tripping over a fallen body, Sam looked around the carnage, the battle. He could have fought as well. Maybe he should have. But he had more important things to take care of, for example hiding the blade.

He wasn’t supposed to possess it. Just holding in his hands, he could feel its power. Its cursed, twisted power coming from the stone in the hilt that made being near it feel _wrong,_ that filled his head with whispers of dark thoughts that were difficult to ignore. It wanted to corrupt him. It wanted to curse him. It wanted to grant him unimaginable power, in exchange for death and blood.

He should’ve never picked it up.

But he had to. He saw one of his comrades getting killed by an undead soldier, saw his friend’s guts spilling onto the floor, along with the blade he was holding, the blade he was supposed to get out of the building before things got out of control. Unfortunately, he only made it halfway through the hall before the creatures were on him, mauling him, but before they could get their decomposing hands on the relic, Sam found himself running over and reaching out for the blade. It all happened in mere seconds, was an act he made in the heat of the moment, his limbs moving faster than his brain, and before he realized, the commander was telling him to run.  
  
Run.

But where? He wasn’t even supposed to be here. He was new to the Brotherhood, was one of the weakest in the entire sanctuary, and he gets to be responsible of an ancient, super powerful death weapon? Sam wanted nothing more, no matter how cowardly that sounded, but to toss the blade to someone else, anyone else. But that wasn’t happening, not in this chaos, not without anyone seeing. No, he needed to get out of here somehow, somewhere safe, before…

It was an unmistakable feeling as his blood turned to ice, the chill running down his spine all he needed to know those intense yellow eyes have fallen on him. Slowly, cautiously, but also very reluctantly and apprehensively, Sam turned to the right, to where the dragon was slaughtering whoever tried to get in his way, and made eye contact with it. Khragnar was watching him. Khragnar _knew_. Almost beginning to tremble in fear, but unable even if he wanted to from the way he was frozen in fear and shock, Sam stared at the mighty dragon in awe and terror, knowing these were probably his last moments alive, his last few breaths, the last thing he’d see before dying probably being the dragon’s long and sharp fangs— 

 _Run._

Turning on his heel, and this time jumping over the corpses littering the marble floor, though almost slipping on pools of blood, Sam ran for the closest corridor, his heart pounding in his chest as he heard the booming roar of the dragon. A gust of wind made him stagger as it flapped its wings and began chasing after him, Sam letting out a little shriek of horror and speeding up. Oh shit oh shit oh shit, he was going to become dragon snack. 

Taking a sharp left and reaching a narrower hallway, he slowed down a little, looking back over his shoulder. The dragon stopped in the opening, stuck its large head into the hallway and opened its mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” he cursed, barely managing to yank open a door and fall into a room before the entire hallway was filled with a stream of fire, some of it burning his shoes. He waited for a few seconds for the fire and the murderous heat to die down before getting to his feet and creeping back outside, just in time to see one of the most disturbing and, truthfully, terrifying thing in his life, and that was saying something. 

If he thought he was safe in a small space, then Sam couldn’t have been more wrong, he realized, as he watched the dragon turn from a giant monster into…a man. As the black smoke—which seemed to be disturbingly alive—dissipated from around him, Sam saw a man in his late twenties, wearing a dark, tight crimson robe under a black cape, with penetrating emerald eyes speckled with gold, dirty blond hair, and plush, sinful lips curled into a crooked smirk. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Sam gulped, clutching the doorknob and watching as the man, as _Khragnar_ advanced on him, before getting to his senses and taking off running again, all the while cursing the situation he was in. No one told him the dragon could turn into a freaking human! Why did no one tell him? 

He ran through corridors, took shortcuts, pushed bookshelves and statues to the ground, tables and a generations’ old grandfather clock behind him; but after a while of some more running, when Sam looked back, his stomach dropped when he saw that the man was still coming after him. Still right behind him, not seeming the least bit fazed, if maybe slightly pissed. This wasn’t good news. Not at all. He still had the blade, tucked safely in his pants, but he was running out of options, of places to hide, and he had no idea how to stop the dragon-turned-man from advancing. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Sam cursed under his breath, looking from left to right as he backed down the hall, keeping his eyes on the man. He shivered, not sure whether from Khragnar’s piercing jade gaze, or from the explosions and rumbling followed by shrieks and screams. The building was on complete lockdown. There was nowhere to run, unless he were to use the portal in the basement, but that has also been shut down. And then there was the growing possibility of him running into another one of the dragon’s loyal and bloodthirsty zombie lackeys. Or, of course, getting caught by the man himself. The unshaken, eerily silent, angry-looking man still coming after him. 

Realizing that there was literally no way for him to run for much longer, Sam decided to gamble on the portal. He took one last glance at Khragnar, before turning on his heel and sprinting straight for the wooden door leading to the basement. Once there, and convinced he had lost the man, Sam quickly pressed his palm on the sigil in the middle of the door, mumbling for it to hurry as the symbols began glowing and moving around in serpentine circles, then let out a relieved sound as he heard the telltale click of the door unlocking. He wasted no moment as he rushed down the stairs, almost slipping on the marble in his hurry, then again when he realized just why the stairs seemed to be so slippery.

Blood. Blood everywhere. Dripping down the stairs, staining the walls, the warm and dimly lit basement illuminating the several bodies scattered across the narrow staircase and the room. At least five bodies of his brothers, with holes in their chests. Sam stood at the bottom of the stairs, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, not daring to take a breath as he looked around the room, at what used to be a small transport room with bookshelves and desks, now turned into a slaughterhouse. Two zombies shuffled around the portal in the end of the room, the oval device glowing with a blue shimmering light. Dammit… They must have overridden it somehow and got in here through it, which meant Sam couldn’t use it anymore. Or, well, he could, if he knew how to change its coordinates. Why did he have to be so clueless about practically everything? Being a newbie, especially in this situation, sucked. 

Gulping, he peered out from behind the wall he was pressing up against, feeling sick as he stood next to one of his comrades’ dead body sprawled across the bottom stairs. The creatures didn’t seem to have noticed him yet, but with their exceptional and irritatingly keen sense of hearing, it was only a matter of time before they caught him and used his insides as decoration. Which meant he needed to do something before they did. Question was, what? He had no powers yet. No weapons. He could have used one of the corpse’s staff, but he had no idea how to operate one. Seriously, could this situation get any worse? 

He almost jumped out of his skin as he heard the door get shattered. His head whipped around, Sam watching with dread as Khragnar descended on the stairs, dusting pieces of wood off his shoulders. The noise obviously alarmed the lackeys, their unearthly screeches chilling Sam to the bone and almost making him have a damn heart attack right that moment. Bloodthirsty creatures from the front, and a centuries old dragon in human form from the back; he wondered which of them would kill him in the least painful way. 

However, Sam might have been many things, but he was no coward. Not really. If he was going to get torn to pieces, he might as well go down swinging. With that in mind, he turned to the zombies with a dead man’s dedication, and was about to rush for the portal, not caring anymore where it would possibly lead him; but he didn’t even take two steps forward before the zombies, with their rotten arms extended before them, blew up to little smithereens. 

Sam gaped at the spray of blood, at the mess before his eyes, barely noticing the low chuckle coming from behind his back. “Holy _crap_!” he yelped, spinning around and backing away, wide and incredulous eyes glued to Khragnar who was just standing there with a small, self-satisfied, and rather dark smirk on his face, lowering his hand. “You… You killed your own people,” he accused, glancing back at the now unguarded portal, and hoping to Gaia he had enough time to dive through it. 

“They would have eaten you,” Khragnar said, his voice deeper and darker, but just as dangerously charming as Sam had imagined. He cocked his head, looking the boy over, Sam feeling pretty much like a delicious slab of meat right then, a chill running down his spine when their eyes met. “And I couldn’t have that.” 

He snorted anxiously. “Why? You want to be the one to rip my throat out?” he asked, then immediately regretted it. He hated how he started blabbering when he got nervous. “I mean…” He averted his eyes, then looked back at the man with the most solemn expression he could muster. “You came for the blade.” 

Khragnar nodded, taking another step towards him. “Hand it over, and I’ll—” 

“Spare my life?” Sam asked hopefully. 

“—make your death quick and relatively painless.” The dragon-man gazed at him with those mesmerizing eyes, taking a few more steps until Sam realized a bit too late that he had been backed into the brick wall. Well, fuck. 

“I can’t do that,” he whispered, even though he was close to fainting or pissing his pants, or both, he was so terrified of the dragon as he finally closed the distance between them and placed his hands on either side of Sam’s head. Trapping him. 

Khragnar narrowed his eyes. “You have nowhere to run or hide anymore. You have nothing to fight for. You have no one left anymore…” He slid one hand, slowly, along the boy’s shoulder and to his neck, wrapping it around his throat. “Hand over the blade,” he ordered, and after a pause, added, “Sam.” 

“H-How do you—” he began, a tiny gasp of shock leaving him, before his air was cut off, the hand around his throat tightening and choking him. 

“I know what I want to know. All I need to do is look _inside_ you,” the man drawled, his gaze lowering to Sam’s chest before moving back up to his wide and panic-stricken eyes, “and I’ll know all your dirty little secrets.” He tightened his hold even more. “I know everything.” 

His vision starting to blur and his heart pumping faster with adrenaline, Sam’s fear of the dragon turned into a blood-curdling fear of death, and as he felt himself losing air, he swiftly gripped Khragnar’s wrist and dug his nails into the small patch of bare skin between the other’s sleeve and his glove. All that did was make him chuckle and lift his hand, Sam emitting a desperate little sound as his feet rose from the ground. This was it. Choked to death. Better than mauled, sure, but he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die, not now, not yet, please… He didn’t, he couldn’t, HE CAN’T! 

 _Do it._  

A second was all he needed. It happened so fast he barely realized there was something in his hand, Sam’s brain only registering what he did when Khragnar let go of him and stepped back. Knees buckling, he almost collapsed, but held onto the wall, his other hand pressing against his throat, coughing…and then blinking, raising his hand to look at the blade he was holding. 

“What…” he breathed, staring at the cursed blade, the Dragon’s Breath stone glimmering, as if…excited. He looked up at Khragnar with bemusement, his breath getting stuck in his throat as he saw blood dripping from the man’s fingertips. “I don’t…?” 

“I knew it,” the dragon purred, his voice seemingly deepening, and raised his hand to examine the wound in his wrist. He didn’t seem too bothered though, and moved back in front of Sam again, their bodies almost pressing against each other and making the boy extremely uncomfortable, and just…confused. “You heard it, haven’t you? Heard it whispering to you.” Khragnar leaned close, taking the other’s hand in his, then slid his finger across the blade, which absorbed the blood from his fingertip right away. “It only does that to those who, deep down, wish to use it, you know?” He smirked. “I knew it, the moment I laid eyes on you. I knew you had it in you…” 

“No!” Sam exclaimed, not sure why he was getting worked up, or what for. “N-No. I don’t have anything in me.” He clenched his jaw, trying to morph with the wall behind him as Khragnar moved even closer, too close, way too close. “Please, I just…” 

“It felt good, didn’t it?” the dragon whispered in his ear, a flush spreading across Sam’s face at the warm breath ghosting over the shell of his ear. “Using the blade. It wants to be used, but no everyone can appreciate it… Only people like me. And you.” 

Sam closed his eyes at Khragnar’s words, shaking his head, not willing to believe one word coming from the malicious dragon. Especially because he was right. Damn him, he was right. Sam could hear it. It told him, the stone, whispered words of sin and corruption to him, of playful evil, and something happened when he was on the verge of running out of air. He couldn’t remember then, but now he was certain he reached back for the blade, and the moment he wrapped his fingers around the handle, something strange came over him… Bloodlust, maybe. But it couldn’t have been, because it was much more thrilling, more fun, exciting. He has never killed before, but in that moment, he wanted to kill. He wanted to drive the blade right through the dragon’s heart, and then do it again. And again. And again. _And again._  

“I’m not like you,” Sam insisted, trying to drop the blade, but as he opened his eyes, he noticed his hand shaking and gripping it tightly. He couldn’t let go. Oh Gaia, the curse. 

“No, you’re not. But we are similar, now,” Khragnar said, wrapping his hand around Sam’s wrist and lifting the blade to his own throat. “We are starving for more. For something bigger than this small world can provide us. A lust for power, for greatness…” He lowered the blade, sliding it down his Adam’s apple, his chest, all the way to his belt. “Among other things.” 

Sam took in a shaky breath, his grip on the knife strong but weakening as he felt the man’s crotch pressing against the tip of the blade. Khragnar was…hard. Dear Gaia, what even was happening anymore? “I can’t– I can’t do this,” he gasped, trying to push the other away. Which was his mistake. 

The dragon grabbed and twisted his wrist the moment he moved, snatching the blade from his grasp, before turning him around and shoving him into the wall so roughly Sam was sure he was going to get a concussion from how hard his head smacked into the brick. He was barely manhandled into position before a rough, firm hand wrapped around the back of his neck, keeping him there, the man’s body following and pushing against his backside. 

“So this whole speech of yours was a lie, huh?” he scoffed with a nervous little laugh as he felt the cold bite of the blade against his temple, slowly trailing down to his cheek. But he deserved it. Corrupted by the knife, murdered by the knife. He just wished he’d killed Khragnar when he had the chance. Murderer or not, that would have been the right thing to do, but Sam couldn’t even do that… 

“Not exactly,” the man drawled lowly, digging his fingers in Sam’s already aching and bruised neck. “I wasn’t lying. I don’t lie. One could say it’s one, if the only redeeming quality I may have.” He tapped the boy’s chin with the tip of the blade, and then swiftly, like a blur, jabbed it into the wall, right between Sam’s fingers as he tried to inconspicuously raise his hand. “ _Don’t_. Even.” 

He gulped, frozen between the disturbingly warm brick wall and the even warmer body. “Then what?” he asked, trying to control his breathing as he took one nervous, shaky breath after the other. He wished the dragon would get it over with already and kill him. Or let him go. At this point, he just wanted to stop feeling like he was going to pass out from fear. “What are you going to do to me, Khragnar? Torture me for hurting you? Kill me? Both?” 

The deep chuckle coming from behind him didn’t make him any more optimistic about his situation. “Torture and kill you? Sounds—” The man slid the blade to Sam’s stomach, drawing a light gasp from him as the cold silver made contact with his burning skin, “—tempting. But no, flaying you isn’t part of my plan for you,” he said with a hint of something sinister in his tone, Sam equally surprised and petrified that Khragnar had a plan for him. 

“What do you want?!” he demanded with a whine, clenching his fists against the wall and pressing his forehead against a brick, unable to take the tension, this dragging-out of the inevitable. He never wanted this. He wasn’t the type of person to whom these kind of dangerous and terrifying stuff, like getting cornered by possibly the world’s most powerful dragon, were supposed to happen to. It was overwhelming and Sam was nearing his limit. “Just what?” 

In that moment, he could have sworn he _felt_ Khragnar’s smirk as he thumbed Sam’s pulse, while slipping the blade further into his shirt. Lips parting but no sounds leaving him, Sam held his breath and gazed down, his heart beating a mile a minute as he watched the cursed blade being used to slice his shirt open, the way it cut at the fabric as if it was made out of soft butter filling Sam with a terrible mix of horror and excitement. Goosebumps broke out all over his body, his cheeks flushing a bright red as the front of his shirt fell away to reveal his fair skin and, oh Gaia, hard nipples. Damn cold blades and questionably arousing situations. 

“Do you know what I used to call this?” Khragnar purred in his ear, painstakingly slowly trailing the blade down his chest and stomach, dipping it into his belly button, then stopping just above his pants. “The judgment’s gemstone.” He snorted lightly. “I know, not the…most elegant name, but it fits. See, not only does the knife have a piece of me inside it—the Dragon’s Breath, which, for your information, was made into a gem from my power, extracted from my _soul_. Don’t worry, though. I ate the mage who created it.” Khragnar slid his hand up to Sam’s hair, gripping a good fistful and pulling his head back, before pressing the tip of the blade under his chin. “Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. But the blade itself is like a gemstone—a diamond, to be more exact.” He made a small cut on Sam’s skin. “See? It can cut _anything_ , go as deep as one pushes it. Sharper than a diamond, and a thousand times more magical than one as well…” 

Sam hissed, his brow knitting into a frown at the pain coming from the cut. It throbbed and burned more and more as the seconds trickled by, is if the wound was getting worse, as if it was…cursed. “Wait—” Panic coursed through his veins as pain spread down his neck, the dragon’s amused chuckle barely audible over Sam’s strangled scream. 

“But you people only know it as the cursed blade. As it doesn’t only corrupt its wielder, but destroys its victims as well. Slowly, painfully; it feeds on suffering. But mostly blood. And, considering it’s powered by my gemstone, that’s a perfectly understandable hunger to have,” the man whispered huskily, but Sam wasn’t paying attention to him, too distracted by the razors clawing at his skull and rusty nails twisting in his flesh, at the horrible, mind-numbing pain…which was slowly decreasing. “But it won’t harm you too much,” Khragnar stated, leaning in and placing a small kiss on the side of Sam’s neck, the boy sweating and panting and utterly confused. And, honestly, fed up. “Not after recognizing you as its potential owner.” 

“Okay that’s.” Sam’s shoulders trembled as his mind tried to wrap around everything that was happening. “That’s enough.” Unable to turn around thanks to the iron grasp the dragon had on his hair, he had to make do with glaring back over his shoulder at the other. “Stop talking about this damn blade as if it is a sentient being, stop comparing me to some power-hungry, murderous maniac! I’m not you, Khragnar. I don’t know what you think is happening here, but you and me, we are _nothing_ alike!” Sam exclaimed, narrowing his eyes, however the unfazed gaze with which he was met wasn’t exactly a confidence booster. “You… You are the villain of this story. And I sure as Hell won’t join the dark side because of one small accident.” 

“If you can call the gem reacting to you an ‘accident’, sure,” the man said, so nonchalant Sam swore he was seriously going to kick the jerkface in the knee from where he stood; but before he could’ve gotten too angry, he was abruptly being dragged over to the antique mahogany desk not far from them. After cleaning the desk of papers and an oil lamp, Khragnar bent him over the smooth wood roughly, before ripping the rest of his shirt off him and grabbing his pants. 

“Hey!” Sam shrieked, jumping up and turning around, panic finally settling in his bones as he realized that there were things worse than murder out there that could be done to a person. Namely, rape. “Holy– Don’t touch me!” he yelled, breathing out of control, if only because he had no clue how they got from death threats to getting undressed. He shoved at the dragon, hoping to reach the stairs before the other could snap his neck with just a glance, but he barely took on step before Khragnar grabbed him by his hair, yanked him back, then shoved him onto the desk even more roughly than before. 

And then stabbed the blade through his hand, burying it in the desk. 

“Holy mother of Earth _ow_!” Sam cried out, gaping at his hand skewered by the blade, and at the eerie lack of blood which, judging by the way the gem inside the knife was glowing, the blade was eagerly drinking up. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?!” he demanded, looking back at Khragnar, who was standing behind him with a complacent expression on his irritatingly mysterious and handsome face. Forget the blade, Sam was pretty sure something about the dragon was cursed. Possibly that hypnotic gaze of his, how something about him made him think about things he shouldn’t. 

The strange moment didn’t last long, though, as the pain in his palm yanked him back to reality the moment he tried to move, to which he also received a twist of the knife, sending even more electric and unbearable pain through him. “Sorry about that. But you cannot be trusted just yet, so I had to…make some precautions before getting down to business,” Khragnar said from behind him, patting his back, Sam breaking out in cold sweat as he felt the man resume tugging his pants down. 

“Wait, w-wait just… Wait just a bit,” he pleaded, giving up on moving his poor right hand, and not wanting to get his other hand broken or something worse either, he decided to hold onto the side of the desk. Until an opportunity to strike were to arise, of course. “Khragnar, what do you think you’re _doing_?” 

“What does it look,” the man said, running his knuckles down the boy’s bare ass, “and feel like to you?” 

Sam gulped, not wanting to answer that. “You can’t do this,” he insisted, biting down on his bottom lip as he glanced back and realized he was the only one fully naked, the dragon still possessing every single article of his clothing. Which was not only unfair, but it also made him feel weak—or more like weaker—and vulnerable, like some cornered, humiliated prey… Which, if he took the fact that the man currently fondling his ass was also a dragon, and he was a mere human into consideration, was unfortunately not far from the truth.

“Can’t, won’t, shouldn’t… I don’t care. Because I _will_ ,” Khragnar hissed with a deep rumble, reminding Sam, again, of whom…or more like what he was up against. “You are so much more than you think you are, Samuel. I can see it, and so can the blade. So don’t fight it. Don’t fight any of this.” He leaned closer, a wet and gloved finger slowly slipping down to Sam’s hole and eliciting a gasp from him, before whispering, “You will thank me later.” 

“Th-Thank you?” Sam grit his teeth, trying not to let any inappropriate sounds escape him as the other began fingering him, twisting and curling it inside him while gripping his hip. How did it come to this? “Thank you for what exactly? F-For killing all my friends? And almost me? Or for raping me?” he spat. “What’s the deal with that, anyway? Why are you _doing_ this?” 

Khragnar’s finger in him stopped, but he got his hopes up for no reason, because in the next moment, that leather gloved finger was joined by another one before they both began moving and stretching, opening him. “For what I’m about to do to you. What I will make you into,” the dragon drawled ominously, tightening his grip on Sam’s hip and shoving his fingers deeper, tears welling up in the boy’s eyes from the pain. “As for the why… Shouldn’t it be obvious? You’re pretty, and I want to fuck you.” 

“But you’re a—ah!” Sam moaned, then clasped his good hand over his mouth, a flustered blush spreading across his cheeks. He tried closing his legs, but the other just kicked them until he was forced to spread them even more. He tried to lean on his hand, so that at least he could stand up a little, but he was once against forced back on the desk, onto his chest, putting him into a complete 90-degree position with his ass in the air. 

This situation was so unbelievable, but it was happening, and Sam had to figure something out _quick_ , or else… Or else what? He was going to get screwed by a dragon. In non-dragon form, of course. Problem was…the more time passed, the more used his body got to the fingers, and the less he minded what was happening to him. Minus the impaled hand. He couldn’t deny it any longer, how he’s been feeling attracted to the enemy since the beginning. Which was fucked up, he knew that very well, but as he stood there, bent over a desk and taking said enemy’s fingers up his ass… Well, it was pretty hard, in more ways than one, pretending he didn’t enjoy this at least a little bit. Which, maybe, just showed how twisted he may have really been. 

“What’s wrong, kitten? Speechless from my fingers?” Khragnar teased, now definitely bruising the boy’s hip as he dug his fingers into the tender flesh, while shoving a pair of other fingers deeper up Sam’s ass, chuckling lowly. “Just wait until I put something much bigger inside you.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and lay his forehead on his forearm. “Ugh, sh-shut up. I still can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” he groaned, biting down on his lip and, even though he hated how he wasn’t even resisting anymore, tried to relax around the man’s surprisingly skillful fingers. 

“Well you better believe it, Sam. But before we get down to the fun part, there’s something I must do,” he said, slowing his fingers and then pulling them out. 

Khragnar’s serious tone told him this probably meant nothing good, making him feel even more vulnerable than he already was, butt naked and impaled on the desk like a butterfly. “What is it…?” Sam asked hesitantly, glancing behind him at the man, who looked alarmingly like the first time he laid eyes on him. In other words, frightening and distant, with something unreadable and somewhat wicked in his eyes. “Khragnar, damn you, what _is_ it?” 

The look the dragon gave him was enough to make him shut up. Gulping, Sam slowly turned his head back to stare down at the desk, hoping to all that was good on this Earth that the other wouldn’t pull his spine out of his back, when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. He watched with a confused expression, and small sounds of pain, as Khragnar took a hold of the blade stuck in his hand and delicately, with a swift and sure yank, removed the gem from the hilt; and the moment he did, Sam’s hand began bleeding again, now that the blade wasn’t powered by the curse which was absorbing his blood. 

“What are you doing?” Sam whispered, licking his lips anxiously as the ball of dread grew in the pit of his stomach. The gem glowed and shimmered in the dragon’s gloved hand, the bright colors of purple and yellow, of deep lavender swirling inside the stone as if they were alive… And he wouldn’t have been surprised if they were. Only slightly creeped the hell out. 

“Samuel…” the dragon purred, his voice smoky and dangerously smooth as he slowly, ever so very slowly slid the gemstone down the other’s spine, sending a strange and electric shiver across his body. “The Dragon’s Breath isn’t just your everyday magical stone. As I have previously told you, it is a _part_ of me. Which means that it only reacts in a certain way to me… And people similar to me. Very similar.” He stroked a hand over Sam’s ass, the soothing, light caress only making him even more worried. “Do you understand what that means?” 

“I know,” Sam hissed with a scowl, clenching his fist. “You say I’m like you, but I’m not. I am not! And I don’t care what this stupid cursed stone says…” 

Khragnar chuckled darkly. “Maybe you do not care, but it’s the truth. You may lie to yourself, but not to me. Especially not after you stabbed me with my own blade,” he stated, tapping a finger against his skin almost tauntingly. “I need this gem, Sam. I need it for power, to use it as a weapon, but now that the blade has found itself an owner, only you can use it.” He scoffed. “Which I unfortunately doubt you will do.” 

“Use the cursed blade to kill people for you?” Sam sneered, pulling away a little from the other’s unsettlingly warm hand. “What made you think I’d have a problem with that?” 

“Keep the snark for later, boy,” he said authoritatively, landing a smack on the other’s ass and making him jump and yelp. “So, as you can see, since it is irrational of me to think you will help me in these conditions… I will have to make it so you’ll have no choice in the matter. So that you won’t be able to hide the blade, or to give it to some other organization who’ll just keep it locked up for eons to come,” Khragnar growled with a clear hint of anger in his slightly raspy voice, and Sam glanced back nervously, now _really_ not liking where this was going. Make him use the blade’s powers? He was both curious and abhorrent to find out what that entailed. 

“Khragnar, I understand how you must be pissed off because we wouldn’t let you have your precious weapon back so that you can cause mayhem and go back in time to destroy humanity,” Sam said, attempting to reason with the seemingly bitter dragon, but as he felt—even through the leather—the other’s nails digging into the skin of his waist, he knew he probably wasn’t doing such a good job. “But please. Please, don’t do anything…” Crazy? Doomsday-ish? “…rash. I’m sure we can work something out. Since, as you said, we are kind of the same.” Which Sam still wasn’t exactly alright with. In _what way_ could he possibly be like a murderous, power-hungry dragon overlord? Aside from experiencing a momentarily blackout during which he attacked the other with the blade, there really…wasn’t anything wrong with him. 

“We are, Sam. That much is true,” Khragnar drawled, and Sam let out a tiny gasp as he felt something hard press against his hole. Something hard and warm, but he honestly couldn’t tell whether he hoped it was the dragon’s cock or the gemstone. “But I am afraid that the time for talking…is over,” he said, right before pushing what Sam was now sure was the _gemstone_ past his tight ring of muscle and all the way into his ass. 

Entire body tensing, Sam let out a high-pitched whimper, eyes wide as saucers as he stared ahead in shocked disbelief, mouth opening and closing like a dumbfounded fish’s. Every round inch of it, he felt them slide deep inside him, stretching and filling him until the gemstone, along with the other’s fingers were buried in him knuckle deep. “ _What are you doing?!_ ” Sam demanded in an incredulous, wispy cry, whipping his head back and gaping at Khragnar, who didn’t even grace him with a look, keeping his intent eyes on the boy’s ass. 

“Inserting the gemstone inside you,” he responded matter-of-factly, then let out an impatient scoff at the _no shit_ look Sam was giving him when he finally looked at him. “There is incredible power to be found in the gem. But only the stone itself possesses such power. The weapons it is placed into or fused together with are simple objects, mere vessels, not even strong enough to reflect the gemstone’s full potential. Knowing that, the best and only course of action I saw this situation of ours taking is fusing the stone with its new owner—your body, Sam. Making you the human embodiment of the Dragon’s Breath.” 

“Y-You–” Sam stammered, disbelief a word too weak to describe what he was feeling as he stared at the satisfied and goddamn delirious dragon. “You shoved the gem up my ass to _turn me into a weapon_?” he exclaimed, pounding his fist against the desk in exasperation. 

Khragnar nodded. “Yes. As soon as the opal dissolves in and merges with your body, you won’t be a human anymore.” The man slowly slid his gaze to Sam, his eyes gleaming with something great, something above Sam’s understanding. Something foreboding. “You will be my deadly key to victory,” he said with an air of finality, but before Sam could have begun protesting and struggling for his life and humanity, a sensation he’s never felt before grabbed him by the throat and took him on one hell of a ride. 

The pain slammed into him harder than his teacher’s fist during training, his ears ringing—which he soon realized was the sound of his deafening screams as what felt like acid, not the gem, dissolved and spread across his body. Sam could almost literally feel as the power, sparkling and fluid and _alive_ , seeped into his flesh and bones, dug into and became one with his insides, his heart, his very soul. It was like being slowly taken apart and then put back, like being filled with poison, like someone hollowing him out and then electrifying whatever remained of him over, and over, and over again. Just a constant ripple of agony, of pulsing, of grating pain that gradually tamped down into a low buzz, which then, after whoever knows how long, turned into simple soreness. It was only after a long moment of lying on the desk, body burning hot and sweaty, that he realized he was crying and shaking, probably has been this entire time… 

“Good boy,” he heard, still faintly as everything seemed and sounded blurry, as the man praised him, patting his back. “You did well. And now you are one of the strongest, and most priceless weapons of mass destruction out there… Congratulations.” 

“Co—” Sam coughed, pulling a face at the soreness of his throat, and looked back over his shoulder to glare at Khragnar. “Congratulations? I never asked for this! I didn’t want this, you monster,” he rasped furiously, sniffling and wiping at his eyes with the back of his wrist. Glancing at his other, still trapped hand, Sam lay his head on the desk with a small sob. “I should have just killed you…” He shook his head. “And why did you have to use my ass, of all places? Wasn’t stripping me naked not enough, you had to humiliate me further?” 

“My purpose was not to humiliate you, Sam.” Khragnar ran his hand up the boy’s back and tangled his fingers in his silky hair, grabbing a hold of it. In a swift movement, he pulled the other up as much as Sam’s impaled hand let him, then began kissing the nape of his neck. “It was to make you into something better. It was…how do you call it? Killing two birds with one stone.” He licked the other’s shoulder, then began kissing down his spine, each caress of the dragon man’s lips against his skin fueling Sam’s anger. And unfortunately, his lust. 

“Right. And care to e-explain what that’s supposed to mean?” he asked with a hiss, biting down on his bottom lip as Khragnar grazed his surprisingly sharp teeth against the small of his back, both his firm hands now gripping his thighs just below his ass. 

“It’s not that difficult to understand,” the man said, pressing more kisses on Sam’s butt cheeks, before bending him over again and moving his mouth to the other’s hole, drawing a sweet mix of a gasp and a moan from the boy. “By turning you into a walking and talking warhead, I have acquired not only my gemstone’s powers, but also you.” 

“Me?” he asked dubiously, scratching at the desk with a muffled yelp as the other bit his ass. 

“Yes.” Khragnar smirked against his skin. “I told you I want to fuck you. And I didn’t mean that as a one-time thing…” he drawled with a low, deep rumble, reminding Sam that the man licking his hole and eating him out was, in fact, a dragon. 

Sam snorted. “S’that why you shoved the gem up my ass?” 

“Oh would you drop that?” The dragon sank his nails, which felt more like claws, into the boy’s cheeks. “I used your ass because I couldn’t use your mouth. Or would you I rather choke you with the stone, or maybe cut a hole in your body and shove it in through there?” 

“Well…n-no—” 

“My point exactly,” he stated, before pushing his tongue back into Sam’s ass and earning a keen from the boy. “Now how about you shut your pretty mouth and let me screw your brains out?” Khragnar growled, then lapped at the other’s hole for a couple of seconds, rimming him, circling the opening with his tongue until Sam was moaning nonstop. The man’s tongue was something unbelievable, warm and thorough, Sam pretty sure Khragnar has licked every inch of his ass by the time he finished with him. 

With one last curl and rub of his tongue against the inside of his ass, the man pulled his tongue out and kissed his hole, before patting his ass, and the rustle coming from behind Sam told him the dragon has stood up and was in the middle of disrobing. “You’re…really going to do this,” he whispered, licking his lips and rubbing his already hard cock against the desk. He was kind of pissed at himself for not feeling angry enough not to be horny, but he supposed he could be mad at Khragnar for turning him into a weapon _after_ their hopefully scorching hot sex. Plus he did hear that angry sex was supposed to be amazing… 

“I am,” the man said coolly, stroking his ass for a moment before spreading it with his thumb and index finger, and pressed the smooth head of his cock against the other’s prepared hole. “So you better hold on,” he snarled, then abruptly yanked the blade out of Sam’s hand, tossed it aside, and shoved his cock into the other, slowly but surely, and all the way to the base. 

Sam cried out, both from the pain in his hand and the one in his ass, for a second thinking Khragnar jammed the knife up him instead of his dick. Which, if that thing in his ass wasn’t a blade or maybe another freaking gemstone—because who the hell knew what that dragon was into—meant that the man was packing. Seriously; he was fairly sure that even with all that licking and fingering, he was bleeding down there. Speaking of which, as Sam brought his injured hand close to his face to examine the wound, he found his skin to be completely fine. No hole in it, no blood, nothing. It was like as soon as the knife was removed, the wound just closed by itself… Healed. Which was something that Sam would have liked to get some explanations for, but as Khragnar began moving inside him without any warning or some time to let him adjust, it seemed that this, too, had to wait until after the sex. 

“O-Oh my G—” he gasped, breath hitching as the man thrust into him, setting a rather rough pace right from the beginning, not sparing Sam’s ass one bit. He gripped the boy tightly, hips smacking against him and rocking his body against the desk with each unforgiving thrust, each brutal slam of Khragnar’s hips. He made sure to drive his cock as deep as it would go, nailing Sam’s prostate over and over, until the boy was reduced to nothing but mewls. It was something incredibly, getting fucked by this man. Or maybe just getting fucked in general, he didn’t know since Sam may or may not have been sort of a virgin. Though not anymore, oh not at all. He clawed at the glossy wood, throwing his head back with a loud moan as the dragon rammed his cock in his ass, hard and merciless, the searing and thick length of the other’s cock like a rod of burning pleasure, sending little sparks all over Sam’s body. Each slick slide, each push and pull, he felt them all, his hole stretching and accommodating the big cock, taking it better than he thought he’d be able to take something so large, screwing him with such strength and speed. Because Khragnar wasn’t slowing down anytime soon, that much was for sure. 

He placed a hand on the small of Sam’s back, pressing him down against the desk hard. “That’s it. Take it, _boy_ ,” he growled, low and rumbly groans escaping him between thrusts and, unfairly, only turning Sam on even more. “What a perfect ass you have for me. Mmm, yes, god yes.” He pressed harder. “Gonna be such a good little toy for me, won’t you? And a good weapon.” 

Sam whined, pressing his forehead into the desk. “Sh-Shut up about that, because I w-will be no such th-thing…!” he insisted even as he was getting fucked silly by the dragon. How pathetic. 

“You can still talk?” Khragnar let out a sly, sinister chuckle. “Well that’s no good. Let me fix that for you,” he purred, then as if that was even possible, he picked up his pace and buried his cock so deep in Sam’s ass he could’ve sworn he felt it in his stomach. 

“A-Aah!” He arched his back like a delicate bow, jaw dropping at the ruthless thrusts. Hissing as his hard, throbbing and leaking cock was rocked against the desk, Sam reached down with a whimper, his hair falling before his eyes except for the sweaty strands stuck to his temples, and took a hold of his needy cock; but before he could have started stroking himself, the dragon landed an awfully loud and painful smack on his ass, the sound, along with the boy’s startled cry, echoing through the basement. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Khragnar’s growl had him moaning shamefully, tears welling up in Sam’s eyes from the embarrassment and the need, his legs trembling. 

“I just… Let me…” He fell back onto the desk, face lying on the pleasantly cool wood. “Please…” 

“Please let you jack off? No,” he hissed, then yanked the boy’s hand away from his dick, after which he wrapped his own hand around the other’s dripping member. “If you’re going to come, it will be because of me. My cock, my hand. And not yours. Got it?” 

High on pleasure, Sam nodded without hesitation, a wanton sound escaping him as the man’s gloved hand squeezed his cock, and then let out a surprisingly loud and slutty mewl when the other began stroking him. Dear Gaia, he hoped he wasn’t discovering a leather fetish or something… “Kh…ra-agnar,” he moaned, spreading his legs further and trying to brace himself against the desk as the other tore him apart, into tiny little pieces, messed him up and made him feel things he never thought were possible. The deliciously unbearable assault on his prostate and the fingers wrapped tight around his cock worked against him, turning him into something he wasn’t, into a loud and needy whore, who made the softest sounds, high-pitched mewls, and who moved in time with the dragon’s thrusts, wanting even more even though his head was already spinning from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. And with the way Khragnar was pumping his cock and fucking him harshly, like he was indeed nothing but a toy, it was only a matter of time before Sam was doubling over and keening like some needy puppy, his life’s greatest orgasm slamming through him as he came all over the desk and the man’s hand with a desperate moan. 

He both felt and heard the dragon come deep into him with a predatory growl, even as he was still riding the afterglow of his orgasm and lying on the desk like a limp sock puppet. “Damn,” Khragnar groaned, fondling the boy’s waist as he rolled his hips, drawing a tiny whimper from him, before slowly pulling out. And Sam was pretty sure he could feel come trickling down his thigh… Right. Why would the great dragon Khragnar use protection? “I do not say this often. Or in fact, ever. But this was better than I expected.” 

“Why, _thank you_. I feel flattered,” Sam scoffed, out of breath and still not really able to move. Because yes, fine, that was better than expected. And also, his ass was sore, and he couldn’t quite feel his legs. 

“You should,” the man said aloofly, and tucked himself back in as the boy rolled onto his back on the desk, then thought better of it thanks to the pain shooting up from his ass, and carefully climbed off the desk before standing up, leaning against it. “There.” Khragnar threw his clothes at him, Sam raising an eyebrow as he held up the torn shirt. “What? It’s better than nothing,” he said, shrugging, before heading for the stairs. 

“Wait, where are you going?” he asked with a frown, quickly pulling up his boxers and struggling with his pants, but not bothering with the ruined shirt. 

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Khragnar turned around and fixed the boy with his intense, intimidating gaze. “I have places to be, things to do, ungrateful scums to kill. Or did you perhaps think I’d stay to cuddle after sex?” He scoffed. “I’m done with you for now, Sam.” 

“Done? _Done?”_ Sam scowled at the man, gritting his teeth from the pain in his ass as he half-stomped, half-staggered over to him. “What do you mean done? You– You shoved a magic stone up my ass, turned me into some damn weapon, fucked me, and now you expect me to pretend that nothing happened? To… To let you just walk away?” 

The dragon watched him for a long moment, and just when Sam was sure he was going to lose his patience, he turned fully to face him and said, “I am not abandoning you. I did _not_ go through all of this just to leave you, my creation.” He took a step forward, the other gulping but standing his ground, even as his sudden burst of courage was slowly dissipating. “You now have a part of me inside you, Sam. That means that I own you. All of you, body and soul and _every tiny little particle in your puny human body_ ,” Khragnar growled, getting up in his face and scaring the air out of his lungs. “But having said that… Yes. I do expect you to pretend that nothing happened. Because you’ll be staying right here, in the enemy’s den, until I call upon you and your newly gained powers.” He lifted Sam’s chin with a finger, gazing deep into his eyes so every bone-chilling word got ingrained in his very soul. “Until it is time to rewrite history with blood.” 

Sam sucked in a sharp breath as soon as the other stepped away from him, blinking down at the ground and looking at his chest, before glancing at the man already walking up the stairs. “W-Wait, what… You can’t be serious. You. What _have_ you done to me??” he exclaimed, now panicking, because he didn’t want to be a weapon. He didn’t want any of this. 

Stopping, the dragon turned around and smirked at him. “I already told you. And while I’m gone, I suggest you become familiar with your abilities. Train, experiment, go wild—just do it in secret. Because we cannot allow anyone to find out about this, about the ticking time bomb in their midst.” 

“I am not a time bomb! I am part of the Brotherhood!” Sam insisted, shouting in denial. “I’m on their side… Not yours. This is all you, Khragnar.” He glared at the man, sniffling. “You’re the evil one here, the one we are all fighting. The one that needs to _die_.” 

But the dragon shook his head. “No, it’s not just me anymore. We are in this together now, whether you like it or not.” 

“But you’re the threat!” He clutched at his chest, hands trembling and eyes wide. “You’re the only one who wants to destroy us all. And I refuse to be part of that. That is not who I am.” 

“…And that is where you’re wrong.” 

Taken aback, he stared at the other for several seconds, at this point dreading to find out what the sinister dragon meant, but as the sounds of commotion from outside grew louder, Sam licked his lips and found himself asking, “What do you mean…?” 

“It will be you, Sam. Your hands will be dirtied by the blood of billions,” Khragnar said, looking down at the appalled boy with foreshadowing, hard eyes. “ _You_ will be the one to end the world.” 

And before Sam could have said anything, the man turned his back to him, night black cape flapping behind him as he disappeared up the stairs. 

Sam stared after him, gazing into the darkness of the staircase for who knows how long, and only snapping out of it when he heard shouting from outside. The creatures were probably either gone or dead by now, which meant his brothers must have started looking for survivors. And for the blade. 

Glancing at the now ordinary blade from the corner of his eye, he leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh. What was he supposed to do now? His only task was to hide it, but instead of that, he not only let Khragnar catch him and render the weapon completely unusable, but he even…somehow, got turned into one. Which still made no sense. How was this even supposed to work? Did he now possess the stone’s powers? Sam looked down at his hands. He flexed his fingers, frowning, turned his hands. The only new ability he could think of so far was healing, since the hole in his hand closed by itself as soon as the knife was removed from it. Which wasn’t such a terrible power to possess, he had to admit. However, judging by how Khragnar specifically said he was going to freaking end the world—something he was still processing and which will most likely cause him to have a breakdown in the very near future—Sam guessed that he also had some more lethal things locked up in him. Not that it mattered, because he would let a Nukelavee roaming the Forbidden Swamp nearby eat him alive before betraying the only people who were like a family to him. Point was, he couldn’t, and wouldn’t use the power inside him, and even though the sex was the best and hottest thing he has ever experienced in his life, no amount of it would convince him otherwise. He was _not_ going to kill anyone for that dragon. 

Especially since that dragon’s goal was mass destruction. 

“Screw him,” Sam muttered, hissing as he rubbed his butt and took one last glance around the basement room, before heading for the stairs. He could do this. No one had to know. All he had to do was say that Khragnar took the gemstone with himself after knocking him out, so he couldn’t be questioned about what happened. Sure, his brothers will shout at him for letting the dragon take the stone, but hopefully they won’t kick him out. And if everything went well, he could just go back to how it was before, fighting the good fight, doing the _right_ thing. Who knows, maybe, one day, he might even be able to use whatever powers he had for good. But for now, there was no need to worry about the future. Whether he’d be able to control these powers, or let them control him, he couldn’t know… 

Only time will tell.

 


End file.
